


First of All

by crystalrequiem



Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: M/M, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, couldn't agree more., first words au, non-magic au, someone on tumblr tagged this as "teen gay disaster Kurogane", though he's in college in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 18:34:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13746861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystalrequiem/pseuds/crystalrequiem
Summary: Kurogane bears something of a ridiculous set of words scrawled down his spine and spilling over the skin of his back. That's okay, because he just knows he'll absolutely love his soulmate, whoever they are.If only the cute blond that works at the cafe down the street could stop being so damn distracting.(Transposting from Tumblr)





	First of All

**Author's Note:**

> Just bringing this over from Tumblr with minor edits, so if you've seen it there, you've seen it. <3
> 
> A ficlet very loosely based on this soulmate meme post:
> 
> https://rubyrushha.tumblr.com/post/169018534069/ok-but-soulmate-au-where-person-b-has-fuck-you

 

* * *

 

 

“…don’t you think, Kurogane?” Tomoyo asks, turning to look at her brother as they make their way towards the subway. He has no idea what she just said, but chances are good it probably had something to do with the Kinomoto girl. He nods, and she seems satisfied.

He doesn’t usually ignore his favorite sister. He just can’t help that something else has captured his attention.

There’s that blond again, in the same stupid uniform, at the same stupid coffee shop. That guy somehow manages to be wiping the tables outside _every damn time_ he and Tomoyo pass by on their way their respective schools. Kurogane knows that it could just be a routine. Maybe the blond _always_ comes out to tidy the patio at the same time of morning, but something tells Kurogane the jerk does this on purpose. He’s fairly certain he watched the idiot wipe down an already spotless surface as Kurogane passed by yesterday, too-blue eyes staring amusedly at him the whole time.

Asshole. What right does he have to stand there looking so damn attractive every morning, unaffected no matter _how_ viciously Kurogane glares his way. Pretty face and long limbs and the way he _moves_ —He’s interesting. He makes Kurogane, ever so slightly, nervous.

What a dick.

The blond stops what he’s doing just as they pass, meets Kurogane’s glare as effortlessly as always, and _winks_.

He fucking winks.

“Do you know that person?” Tomoyo asks him, softly, and Kurogane hurries to race down the rest of the block before either of them can see the shade his face is turning. He imagines he hears the sound of someone’s musical laugh chasing behind.

 

* * *

 

The next day, he’s there again. _Of course_ he is.

“He seems nice,” Tomoyo announces, “you should talk to him sometime.” Like clockwork, the man at the café distracts Kurogane from what his sister means to tell him. He hums distantly in answer, watching his tormentor move. Those slim shoulders flex _quite_ nicely as the jerk works to clean the glass of his storefront, some kind of squeegee in hand.

God, what is he _doing_? He doesn’t need more daydream food. He has more than enough already. He doesn’t _want_ it. Kurogane will deny it until the day he dies, but at the heart of things, he maybe _might_ be a closet romantic. He’ll wait to fall head over heels until he hears the ridiculous diatribe scrawled in large, looping letters over the canvas of his back, thank you very much. He doesn’t want…. Whatever this weird fixation is.

Really.

They step closer, and just when he thinks he might finally slip by without those blue eyes sliding mercilessly towards his, Tomoyo does the strangest thing.

“Morning!” She calls across the street, waving. Blondie catches sight of her motion reflected on dark glass and turns to wave back.

“Tomoyo, what the hell are you doing,” Kurogane grits through his teeth. He wants to look away, but he’s doomed to catch the man’s gaze again. Tomoyo is a _traitor_.

He reaches over and stills his sister’s wrist, desperate to slip by without further embarrassment. That damn _wink_ had already been permanently mired in his thoughts. He thinks it won’t bother him so badly if the guy tries again, but he would much rather avoid it all the same.

So of _course_ that asshole meets his intimidating scowl with a wicked grin. Of _course_ , he lifts that previously waving, long-fingered hand to his lips and blows a kiss.

“Oh my, you’re very red right now.” His traitor sister does not need to tell him. He very much knows.

 

* * *

 

Today, he simply plans to hide from it. Maybe he has to face that guy again at some point, but “some point” is not right now. The kind of dreams he had last night….

He will absolutely 100% _not_ walk past the café today. Tomoyo would notice if he asked her to walk a different route, so he won’t walk with Tomoyo. He can afford to skip his first class. Totally and completely worth it.

“Sorry. It’s what I get for putting the damn paper off so long,” he lies. “I’ll have to head in after I manage to print this out.”

There is no way his sister believes him. He almost _expects_ the searching gaze she subjects him to.

He does _not_ expect her to figure out the reason for his avoidance so quickly, but when she returns home with an empty coffee sleeve, he knows he’s been made.

“I made good time, so I stopped in that café today. That nice man we always see in the morning was there.” Kurogane can feel his teeth grinding together.

“Of course he was,” he bites.

“He asked me where you were, you know? I told him you put your homework off too long and he agreed you don’t seem like the type.” Great. Okay, he gets it already; she knows this is simply an act of cowardice. “Anyway, he seemed very cute and you did go _very_ red yesterday. So I got his phone number for you.”

…what?

Tomoyo places the sleeve in front of him, facing it so Kurogane can see the digits scrawled beneath a doodle of a winking cat.

He sees a flash of burning-blue in his mind’s eye, the lines of that handsome face—

Where the hell does this asshole get off trying to be so smooth!? Kurogane folds the damn sleeve in half and half again, ignoring the way Tomoyo tuts. He crumples it, tries as hard as he can to put that idiot out of his mind.

(He doesn’t throw it away. )

 

* * *

 

He wakes up in a bad mood. Souma mentioned he missed a pop quiz in the class he skipped yesterday, which is entirely that ~~cute~~ —  _jerk_ ’s fault. Tomoyo is miffed at him for ignoring her "crucial contributions as a wingman," and they’re running a bit late on their way to the subway this morning.

To top it all off, when he makes it within view of the café, Blondie is nowhere in sight.

Ugh, just _fuck_ that guy, seriously. It’s the first weekday in nearly _three months_ that asshole hasn’t been out front to watch the two of them walk by. And doesn’t it just figure that _today’s_ the day Kurogane finally thought he might get enough courage to walk up and say something. Of _course_ today’s the day he finally gives up.

He wants to stroll right into that store, get right in that handsome face and say—

Oh.

Oh no.

“No time to pause, big brother, I can’t be late today! Sakura said she got a haircut last night and I _have_ to see!” Tomoyo’s voice shakes him out of his shock. Kurogane stares at her blankly for a moment longer, fingers the thin, folded cardboard in his pocket. 

“Go ahead. I’ll take the next train.” He tells her, looking pointedly away. He _knows_ he’s going to catch hell for this at home later, but at least she doesn’t have time to tease him right this instant. She dashes off, braided hair trailing behind her.

Kurogane lifts the cat drawing from his pocket, smooths it, thinks about the looping handwriting of those numbers.

God. Damn it.

He shoves the thing violently back, and furiously j-walks across the street without even bothering to check for cars. He pays no heed to the honking or the angry driver yelling in his wake save to flip them off behind his back, pulls the shop door open with _entirely_ more force than necessary.

The customers in line don’t very much appreciate him elbowing his way to the barista counter, but they can rot for all he cares. He’d like to see them take him. His mission takes absolute priority.

“Fuck you.”

Finally, Finally, he manages to kick a reaction out of the blond jerk who’s been wordlessly flirting with him for _months. Shock_ fills his pretty eyes, lips quirking into an uncertain, softer smile. He opens his stupid mouth and Kurogane knows _exactly_ what the idiot will say.

“Ah, so it _is_ you! I figured you might be the kind of guy obnoxious enough to let ‘fuck you,’ be the first thing you ever say. Did you even think about how much trouble you'd make for me with a soulmark like that?”

“About as much as that fucking essay has brought me, I’d assume,” he drawls, torn between annoyance and elation.

(When Blondie laughs and moves in for the kiss he’s been secretly, guiltily dreaming of, he leans toward elation.)


End file.
